


The Morning After (SFW)

by PastelAxolotl



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Awkward Flirting, Awkward Tension, Hangover, Jamilton - Freeform, M/M, Morning After, Morning Cuddles, Morning Kisses, One Night Stands (mentioned), macaroni and cheese
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-09
Updated: 2020-10-09
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:34:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26908198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PastelAxolotl/pseuds/PastelAxolotl
Summary: After a night of drinking, Hamilton wakes up to the smell of food cooking in his apartment. Strange, Eliza wasn't due back for another month.... wait, is that Jefferson? What's he doing here?SFW version ofthis, NSFW bits replaced with snuggles :3
Relationships: Alexander Hamilton & Thomas Jefferson, Alexander Hamilton/Thomas Jefferson, JAMILTON
Kudos: 35





	The Morning After (SFW)

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, welcome to my first fic! I hope y'all like it! ^^

Hamilton grumbled as he drifted back to consciousness. He blinked the sun out of his eyes and glanced over at his clock, it was almost noon. He would've liked to have gotten up earlier, but he guessed the alcohol from the night before had kept him sedated. Speaking of which, he noted that his head hurt like hell. Stretching, he sat up and pushed himself out of bed. His mind started to clear as he walked from the bedroom to the kitchen to retrieve a glass of water to, hopefully, get rid of this cursed hangover. He paused when he got closer and realized that he heard what he thought might've been someone cooking. Alexander briefly wondered if his family had come home early from their summer upstate, and cautiously peered his head around the corner.

Standing in the middle of his kitchen was a tall, dark-skinned man with wildly curled locks, one he had no memory of letting into his home. Then again, he didn't remember much after knocking back his third drink at the bar the night before.

"Jefferson?" The other man turned around to smile at Alexander, who could now see that he was boiling something on the stove. 

"Mornin' sleeping beauty." Jefferson replied, his voice quite a bit softer than all the other times they'd interacted. Hamilton assumed it was due to how early it was. "I thought about waking you up, but with those bags under your eyes I figured you needed a good night's rest." Thomas turned back to his pot. 

"... Why are you in my house?" Alexander asked, voice creeping with suspicion. Jefferson paused with his cooking endeavors and looked back at him in confusion.

"Would you prefer if I left? I'm almost done with our meal." Thomas stood there awkwardly for a moment, then decided to search the cabinets.

"What are you doing?"

"It's not done yet, but I'm looking for plates, how else are we supposed to eat this?" There was a joking tone in his voice, much different from the undertones of hatred that seemed to plague it every time he stepped onto the debate floor with Hamilton. Alexander liked the change. He was still confused, but his stomach growled in anticipation at the prospect of a warm meal. He went to the cabinet opposite Jefferson to get the plates and silverware, then filled a glass with tap water and sat at the little table in the middle of the room. 

Jefferson turned back around to his pot. Alex sat there, running scenarios through his mind about what might've lead up to this. After about twenty, he decided that the best way to get to the bottom of this was to ask. "So... What happened last night?" 

Jefferson paused in the middle of putting stirring and turned around to look at him, eyes widened in surprise. "Wait- you mean you don't know?" 

"Not really. If I did I would've have asked, dumbass." Alexander rolled his eyes and took a swig of his water, feeling his headache dull slightly. "I don't remember shit, must've drank too much. Why, did something happen?" He thought about insulting the Virginian more, but whatever was cooking smelled good, and his hunger kept gnawing at him.

"... I guess you could say that, Darlin'." He chuckled. Why did Thomas call him "Darlin'," and more importantly why did Alexander get a little flutter in his stomach when he heard it? Jefferson turned off the stove and set the pot aside to cool. 

Alex groaned. "What'd I do?" He was getting a bit annoyed. It's one thing to make a fool of yourself, but it's another all together when it's in front of your rival. He hoped that, whatever it was, it wasn't enough for the southern bastard to use as blackmail. Thomas preoccupied himself with putting the food on plates. "Jefferson, what did I do??" Hamilton was starting to worry. His voice took on a tone of urgency. Thomas brought the plates to the table and calmly sat down across from the other man. Macaroni and Cheese, he noted. He wasn't a big fan, heck he didn't even know he had any packages of the stuff, but that was a problem for another day. 

"W-Well, uhm..." Thomas took a big bite of his meal, though not enough to make him choke, and started chewing it slowly. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat and averted his gaze, like he didn't know what to say. Alexander never thought he'd see him at a loss for words, and he especially didn't think he'd ever see him with that strange blush on his face. Jefferson was confident, annoyingly so at times, so it was very out-of-character for him to act this way. It was making Hamilton feel nervous. 

"Spit it out already, you're freaking me out. Did I punch someone? Is everyone okay? Did something happen to one of my friends?" He was anxiously poking his plate with a fork, yet to take a bite out of it. Jefferson shook his head and swallowed.

"No, it's not that. Are you sure you don't...?" he left the last bit unsaid, but Alexander knew what he meant. He looked at Jefferson in confusion and slightly moved his head from side to side. "Fuck, of course the one night that happens you have to go and black out." He ran a hand through his frizzy hair in annoyance. 

"The one night what happens? What are you not telling me, Jefferson?" Thomas' face turned red and paused for a moment before replying.

"... We were both at the bar, getting drinks. When we noticed each other we started bickering a bit, but it seemed the more we drank the more we softened up." He smiled. "You really do have a way with words you know, Alexander. Once the insults died down and you got a bit more civil, it seemed that you had some... nicer... things to say. You called me beautiful, amazing..." He paused. "Sexy....." The last word he said was mumbled, and though Hamilton thought he knew what it was, he told himself that he was hearing things. Jefferson was just saying that to boost his ego. Thomas took another mouthful before continuing, postponing the end of the story. Alex had a feeling he knew where this was going, but convinced himself that that the red on his cheeks was from the heat of the room. "Then, we came back here."

Alexander blushed lightly. "And w-what happened here?" Thomas looked back down at his noodles. He looked up at the man across the table, only to see him get up and start walking towards him. "... Jefferson?"

He stopped in front of him, face unreadable. Hamilton was mentally preparing himself for a fight. "This might help you jog your memory." Alex opened his mouth to say something, but was too late. He felt hands on the sides of his face and the soft brush of lips against his own. It startled him. Thomas Jefferson was kissing him, and he was kissing Thomas back. It felt fragile, like it might break at any moment. After a second or two, the lips pulled away and he caught his breath. "So...?" Thomas' eyes were full of unanswered questions, and maybe a little hope.

Alexander felt weak in his knees. He tried again to recall what happened last night. Their was a faint memory of fingers running through his hair, sloppy kisses, his back arching off the bed as his hands tangled themselves in the covers. It was all fuzzy, but it was there. It felt like a dream, not solid enough to belong to reality. His face adopted a deep, brilliant shade of red. "Me... And-and you, we-..." The usually very eloquent man dissolved into stuttering. Thomas stood in front of him awkwardly.

"... Yep." He glanced around the room, avoiding Hamilton's eyes. Alex took a sip of his water. They stayed like that for a moment, neither knowing what to say. Jefferson ran a hand through his hair. He turned towards the door. "Um, listen, if you want me to leave I-"

"NO-" Alexander shot up and grabbed his wrist, stopping him. "I mean, uh, no." He said softer, letting go of Jefferson. He felt slightly embarrassed by his outburst. Alex rubbed the back of his neck with one hand and looked at the floor. "You can, um, stay- y'know, if you'd like... I mean, it's a Sunday. We don't have work today." He glanced back up at the taller man.

Thomas smiled, a light blush across his face. He chuckled. "Well, I can't say no to those puppy dog eyes of yours now, can I? I think I'll go sit on the couch, care to join me?"

Hamilton left his untouched noodles on the table, forgotten for the moment. "Y-Yeah, sure." He tried to say that as casually as possible, but a little nervous stutter still made its way into his speech. 

They sat side-by-side, an inch of space between them. A delicate silence filled the room. Both wondered who would be the one to make the first move. As it turns out, it was Alexander. He surprised himself by reaching up quickly to place a soft kiss on Jefferson's stubbled cheek. When he settled back down onto the couch, their legs were touching. The smaller man was blushing furiously and refusing to meet the other's gaze. 

"... You missed."

"What?" The words took him off-guard. He glanced up at the southerner, who was now sporting a small smirk.

"I said you missed." There was a mischievous tone in his voice.

"What the hell are you talking about, I kissed you didn't I?" 

"Nope, your 'kiss' landed aaaaall the way over here, darlin'." He pointed to the spot Hamilton's lips touched. "I'd say you need some target practice~." And with that, Hamilton once again felt lips on his own. This time, they were more confidant. After a few moments, Thomas broke it. Alexander blushed and looked down at the floor. He let his head fall on Jefferson's shoulder, which earned him a small giggle. Thomas laid his head on top of Hamilton's and put an arm around him. Alex pulled his legs up onto the couch and just enjoyed the other man's embrace. He thought about getting up to grab the water he left on the table, but he felt so comfortable and warm lying there with him.

"... So, this might change things, huh?"

Thomas chuckled again. "Yeah, a little. Don't think this means I'll let up on any of our debates, though. I still think some of your policies are kinda shit."

Hamilton tilted his head a bit to look at him and smirked. " _Some_ of my policies?"

"Yeah, not all of them are bad I guess. Just most of them." He smiled and turned his head towards him. "Don't worry darlin', I'll always be here to poke holes in 'em."

"I hope in the future your criticism will be more constructive, but lets not talk about work right now."

"Yeah, I'd rather just sit here with you~." Thomas kissed him, and when it ended Alexander blushed and snuggled into the crook of his neck. They stayed like that for awhile in a comfortable silence, enjoying each others' company. His eyes were slowly getting heavier, and their hearts started to beat in sync. The last thought Alex had before submitting to his tired brain was " _Well, I_ guess _I can sleep in a little longer._ " 


End file.
